


Greyback's Bloodlust

by miriams-darkfics (small_miriam)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Darkfic, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Its not really Greyback without the cannibalistic overtures though is it, Knotting, Mind the Tags, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape, Torture, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/small_miriam/pseuds/miriams-darkfics
Summary: Hermione is left behind in Malfoy Manor. She’s needed alive for torture, but if Fenrir Greyback is honest with himself, he’s not sure he can hold back.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback
Comments: 13
Kudos: 162





	Greyback's Bloodlust

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This is a darkfic, and contains sexual violence, rape, torture and Greyback fantasising about cannibalism. If these things are harmful for you to read, or if you don’t want to read this kind of content, please take good care of yourself and click away ❤️ 
> 
> Please mind the tags and the warnings. 
> 
> (I know - I should finish my other darkfic, but I just couldn’t get this one out of my head!)

She is a tender meal, lying taut across the marble floor in a sheen of blood and sweat. Fenrir has to swallow the saliva pooling behind his sharp teeth as he stands on in the entryway. 

Granger, they call her. 

They have no _idea_ how she smells. 

“Where, filthy Mudblood, _where_?!” The Black sister shrieks over her. It’s the mad sister - a touch of the Sight makes her blood sour and her womb barren - but she is a Black, nonetheless. Inbred blood, tastes bloody awful.

Not like the squirming Mudblood on the floor that whimpers quietly. Fertile, hot blood that sings to his loins. Low muscles at the base of his spine clench at the sight of her trembling, and he clicks a knuckle in his fist inadvertently. 

“Answer me, thief!” Bellatrix howls over her. “ _Crucio_!”

Her screaming soars through the room, and Fenrir’s cock twitches up against his belt with impatience. It is a hedonistic miracle that mudbloods taste best - the very creatures the Dark Lord wishes to exterminate. Best of all, this one has a sweet body that had only recently toppled over the threshold of childhood into fertility. By her smell, she still has the prickly, fresh taste of childhood that will melt in the mouth. But it is the waves of panic and fertile sex rolling off her writhing body that makes his belly twist in lust.

“Bella,” the other sister, Narcissa, coaxes from her side, but Bellatrix yanks her arm away, black robes snapping in the air. “Leave her for the Dark Lord, Bella - please, come.”

“Think you’re done with her then, Lestrange?” Fenrir steps forward, unable to disguise his possessive appetite, and Narcissa recoils slightly. 

“The Dark Lord’s fury will know no bounds!” Bellatrix hisses at her sister, and she snaps her wand through the air. A window pane above cracks. “They got away, and she knows _where_ , Cissy!”

“There are more ways to make her talk, Bella.” Fenrir licks his lips and can’t help throwing a smirk over his shoulder at Lucius. “Wormtail is disposed of. I can have this cleaned up before the Dark Lord returns.”

Behind him, Lucius curls his lip in undisguised disgust. 

“Foul, lingering beast,” Bellatrix spits at Fenrir, whirling around the Mudblood. She would look like a wolf guarding prey were it not for the neurotic trembling “ _I_ am the Dark Lord’s most dedicated servant. She will answer to _me_ .” Her eyes snap down again to the girl. “ _Crucio_!”

Over the screaming, Narcissa flinches one hand at her throat while Lucius darts to her side, around the ruins of the drawing room chandelier on the floor.

“I’ll take care of it.” Fenrir paced forward. He wants to bite - for her wet muscles to come apart like silky ribbons on his tongue. He needs her _now,_ different parts of him in different ways, and her quivering sobs make him swallow in anticipation. The incessant cruciatus curses are whittling away at the edges of her consciousness and her sanity is sure to follow eventually. But he isn’t here for her sanity, or for anything that her little head might be holding. 

“We will perish if the Dark Lord-!” Bella starts, but Narcissa whispers something in her ear tearfully, and coaxes her quickly to the hallway. Lucius strides close to Fenrir, and his inbred Malfoy smell spoils the headiness hanging in the air.

“If you want her, get her out of sight now.” Lucius is low and clipped through gritted teeth. “She must be intact for the Dark Lord-“

“Of course.” Fenrir smirks.

“But get her away from these quarters _now_.”

“The dungeons far enough for you?” Fenrir licks his lips. “Or does the noise still carry too much for your sweet wife’s nerves?” Narcissa sniffles in the hallway to prove his point.

“Away, now.” Lucius stalks away towards the shrill bickering that has started to erupt outside the drawing room, and Fenrir looms over the girl as she moans into the marble floor. 

She’s twitching from the cruciatus curses, and curls into herself with eyes that are clamped shut. Smeared blood beneath her body on the white marble has her looking like she has been served carefully, perfectly, for his pleasure.

“Sweet little thing.”

She doesn’t hear him. They never do; their ears ring so loudly after Bellatrix is done with them.

He sweeps her up in his arms, and she doesn’t hang limp. Instead, her muscles seize and clamp close to her body. A good survival instinct; she’d have done well on the cold winter nights outside, fighting among new werewolves for heat and scraps of warmth. She bobs in his arms down to the dungeons. 

He won’t have the self-control to turn her, though - she’s a delicacy that will come apart softly in the mouth and topple his control. Only a few years into her fertility - enough to start the cascade of sex pheromones that stripe through the blood, but still girlish enough that the werewolf instinct is going to growl that _this_ is perfection, that _this one_ needs to be turned, and mated, and fucked until she whelps.

It won’t win. He’ll enjoy her, but she’ll scream, and that will be the end of him - and the end of her. He’ll swallow her up and she’ll be a part of him forever. 

Whatever she knew, Bellatrix would have to cope without it.

He goes to lie her on the dungeon table, but it smells too closely of the half-bloods he’s savaged over the past two moons, so he wanders further and kicks opens the old servant’s quarters at the end of the dungeon, laying her out on the stone floor.

“Where have they gone, girl?” He loosens the neck of his shirt. His buckle clinks and the belt hisses as he pulls it off.

“They got away, then,” she says. 

“But not you.” 

She scoffs under her breath. “It doesn’t matter.” 

He crowds down over her on the stone floor, and she recoils away. His fingers find the dip of her neck, and he inadvertently swallows. He’d have to leave her neck for last - Merlin, the blood’s going to burst hot in his mouth - or he’ll kill her straight away.

He decides he’ll knot her. It will feel best if she’s alive for it, at least at first.

“Doesn’t matter?” He tears her muggle coat off, leaving a thin cotton shirt. He likes how it clings to the sweat. Her skin glistens, and he’s going to slide against it. “You’re fertile now, did you know? Remarkable that you think it doesn’t matter.” 

She swallows thickly, and he grins. “You won’t tell Bellatrix where your friends have gone, so it’s me instead.” He rips her jeans apart at the seam and tears them off, and she has barely enough energy to whip her legs up close. 

_Merlin_. The seam between her legs is wet with sweat.

“What-“ she squeaks.

He scooped his arms up and around the apex of each thigh to pin her in place. He curls his wet tongue hard over the cotton against her slit and she kicks out in a jolt, yelping. 

_Fuck_ . He wants to eat her up _now_. The taste of her on his tongue makes his hips flex inadvertently, and he groans against her core. She’s at the true apex of her fertility for the month, her sex is warm, and he wants to pull her apart and bury himself all at once-

“Greyback,” Lucius’ cold voice comes over him like cold ice, from the hallway. The girl squeaks and tries to close her thighs, but the blush coming over her face - humiliation, it suits her well - makes Fenrir’s stomach swoop in predatory anticipation. 

Lucius is too gutless to come near, and it’s for the better; Fenrir snarls and pulls his sharp teeth along her inner thigh. 

“Leave her.” Lucius commands.

She’s stopped writhing under him now. The trembles in her thighs around his face make him growl. Leave her? It’s not happening. His hands drive into the flesh of her thighs in a bruising grasp, and he grits his teeth. A moment of silence stretches out and water drips out somewhere in the dungeon silence.

“You shall be executed if she dies.” Lucius eventually says, like he’s deliberated. “Show some decency and at least silence the room.”

“Take me back!” She calls out. “Take me-! No-!”

The door slams shut behind him, and Fenrir senses a silencing ward that follows.

“”No”?” Fenrir drags her close to his face again and drags in a sigh. “Do you know how much smaller you are inside? When your body doesn’t want it? The womb stays low and tight. Agony for you, I’m afraid, but for me-“ Fenrir nips at the apex of her thigh. “ _Oh_. One of life’s sweet ironies.”

“Let me out!” She cries out, but she can’t sustain it; she’s breathless from panting in fear, and, _Circe_ , there are beads of sweat on her face. Her scent of curdling fear is swirling in the room. Fenrir looks up at her, over her trembling stomach, then tears her underwear at the hip and discards it.

“Has anyone tasted you here?”

He slides his tongue against her, sucking at the soft flesh with his lips for a moment. Hot. Silky. _Twitching_. The muscles in his belly tighten in dark pleasure. Her feet scramble for purchase down his back, but he growls and pins her close.

“Where have they gone?” He murmurs against her core, and forces himself not to _devour_ . She’d have been dead meat walking through the wrong forests on continental Europe, her pheromones are _singing_ in his mouth. “Won’t say?” He smacks his lips, swallowing. “Aren’t you loyal. If you can tell me, you’ll live.”

_If you tell me, I’ll kill you quickly, girl._

He sighs against her sex. This isn’t for her; it’s for him. She is slick and ready in his mouth, wet flesh slippery over his tongue, and he doesn’t want to forget the taste before he starts. A perfect union of youth, terror and arousal. He climbs over her, his figure casting a shadow that engulfs her, and she yanks her thighs closed.

“Ah, ah.” He presses a knee between her knees to force them apart, and settles his weight on her.

She freezes in her shock. 

A flash of predatory hunger snaps through him. If he waits any longer he’s going to kill her in bloodlust. Pulling his cock free, he slides the head up and down her folds, hand fisted tight around himself, and slips the head forward against the opening of her hot, slick sex. He rocks back and forward against her entrance, and groans at the wet smacking sounds, dropping his head forward against her shoulder.

“Now, don’t cry too much,” he pants, and he skates his teeth across her skin, “or I’ll forget myself.”

“Forget yourself-?” She whimpers.

He hums against her skin. “Think you can manage that?”

He knifes in, inch by tender inch, and she pants quietly below, shaking like a leaf, until he strikes the end of her and she muffles a cry.

 _Merlin_ , she was shallow. 

There are still two inches of him left unburied, and he rolls against her to test her depth. The knot at the base of his cock - a lycanthropic feature he dragged into his human form - would bloom outside of her. It won’t do. Biology demands challenges and proof of worthiness, so he thrusts hard to seek tight, enveloping warmth.

She cuts off a high pitch cry barely inches below his face. A frisson of goosebumps rush up his arms, and his instincts flare. 

_Devour her. Now. God, she’ll come apart in soft threads in your mouth._

He groans and nips his teeth at her skin, then grinds his teeth to stifle the instinct to bite. Growling into her neck, he pumps hard. There’s so little of her beneath him, and when he looks down to see himself fucking into her, he thinks he sees her belly shift when he pushes himself home. 

A tight, wet thing she is, between the legs. It’s what she was made for, what years of surviving, and living, and casting magic has made her for - ribbed and trembling inside, to clamp around him.

He’s getting deeper now, and there’s soft wet sounds as her flesh slides around him. She stutters out a tiny cry again, and he _throbs_ inside her. 

“Quiet."

“I’m trying,” she whimpered. 

“You are,” he murmurs into her ear. “It’s gorgeous.”

Her panting fear starts into proper sobs, and the twitches of her chest make her flutter around him. 

_Bite down - take her now. Hot, slippery blood on the tongue._

He needs her tight warmth - needs something deeper to the hilt - or his instincts will run away from him and she’s dead. His hands curl possessively around her shoulders and he drives the full weight of his hips against her, burying himself right up to the hilt. She bites off another gasping cry as the knot swells and drags against her.

“Yes,” he hisses between sharp teeth, hot pleasure bursting forward in radiating waves.

His knot bursts wide, and he grinds deep, wedging himself up behind her pelvic bone. She screams out in earnest, head thrown back as she tries to scramble away. There wasn’t any room for himself up inside her, and it was catastrophic _perfection_. A crushing little vice that throbs around him, that weeps and cries and takes him anyway.

He calls out groans into her hair splayed on the stone floor - long groans ripping from his throat, punctuating ringing ears with quivering cries from the Granger girl skewered on him, and her feet slapping on the stone floor as she kicks out.

He shudders and pours himself in twitching waves. 

His heart thumps, and thumps, and _thumps_. His throat feels dry and mouth empty, but the throbbing around him settles the worst edges of the bloodlust.

Some moments later, his senses returned to him when her trembling hands reach down between her legs, feeling their connection. She tilts her hips to squirm away then gasps.

“Still, now,” he growls, taking the tone he does with new werewolves. “You’ll tear.” He licks his lips at the thought, and saliva pools in his mouth again.

“Tear?” She whispers in horror. 

_And worse._ The thought of her bloodied along her thighs makes him press his hips down into her again, and she pushes her hands against his chest feebly. With blood added to this divine sight, he won’t stand a chance. Reaching down, he feels himself catch hard inside her, locking in. Good. 

Soothing never comes naturally to him, but she has done so well. It has probably kept them both alive, and relaxing her would ease the chances of her bleeding. His fingers trail up from their connection and he massages circles at the apex of her sex. 

“S-stop,” she whispers. “Just stop, p-please.”

Her insides coil tight around him as her thighs jerk against his hips.

“You’ll tell me where they are eventually.” His seed slips out of her sex around his base, and he pulls his hand through it, working it back up to her bundle of nerves and slipping across it lazily. Her involuntary jolts are beautiful; he’s getting hard again.

“I don’t know where they are.” Granger says, voice cracking.

“You don’t?” He sighs into her curls. Waiting to devour her was going to kill him. 

If he spent himself again, he might calm down. Trying her earlobe in his mouth, he sucks hard, and finds himself groaning hoarse. He drops his head into her shoulder and decides against tempting fate.

She hiccups a sob.

“Hush,” he murmurs, rocking his cock inside her; it has some give as it drags inside her, and the slipperiness lets him slip back and forward over her clamping muscles inside. “We need you alive a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! We love us some kudos! (but if you're a wary traveller in the night I tip my hat quietly to you too ❤️ )
> 
> Wanna prompt a Death Eater darkfic? Find me on [tumblr](https://small-miriam.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Take care~


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